The biggest compliment he could get was, “I like that.” “That’s creative,” coming in a close second.
Alienated Spaceship flying ******* That last word’s disingenuous. I’ve only ****** a ******. She’s only ****** me. I guess we got that going for us.
He stares at a pad and paper, Or maybe the computer equivalent. Who trusts their own hand to be honest? Who entrusts tomes to their own handwriting? I mean, can you read that ****? I guess if you were slow and methodical, But stream-of-consciousness doesn’t allow that, Even if the tag is a little off.
I’ve got money to keep living, Even if most of it is credit. What’s my side hustle? Using my debit.
Let it alone, is what I called the last **** God, if I could turn these to hits. Some bangers, some ear-worms.
I just want someone to read this, And be like, “****, I feel heard.”